Evil Awakened
by Corianna15
Summary: Call it destiny, call it fate, or just dumb luck...the past repeats itself, and the consequences are dire.


**_This is an idea, for a bigger story. But I don't have the time to write it currently. So I am putting this, a few scenes that have been running through my head, out there to see if it is of any interest to anyone. Also, while I have written this story with specific characters in mind, (and if I decided to write it, will use them) for now I have left names and descriptions out of it. So for now you can take your favorite characters from the Rangerverse and insert them. Make it your story. I'd love to hear who you came up with, or who you'd like to see in these rolls. BTW…darker themes…_**

* * *

It wasn't a new sensation, coming back to consciousness, but in that moment his brain didn't put the pieces together right away. In the darkness, sounds started to register. It was all muffled, as if his head was underwater, but slowly the sounds began to form into more solid tones. A faint hiss, a click, a slow high pitched beep. His brain felt a little lighter, he tried to open his eyes. His lids felt like lead, but he persisted. He achieved his goal and instantly regretted it. The light was blinding. He shut his eyes tightly.

'Okay, I can do this.' He thought, and took a deep breath before attempting to open his eyes again, or at least he tried to. Something was wrong. It didn't take him long to put the pieces together. The pressure in his throat, the steady hissing sound, the beeping; he was familiar with these. He was in a hospital? Why?

He forced his eyes open again. He squinted at the light but tried to focus on what was in front of him.

Bed, wall, tubing, monitors.

Noticing the IV in his hand, he focused on it, trying to move his fingers. As he stared intently at his hand and image flashed in his mind. A hand, (his hand?) covered in blood, holding a small bloody knife. He stared at the knife; there was a blur just beyond it, a form of some kind. He concentrated, focused on the form. The bloody hand was in the way, so he dropped it and the form took shape. It was a person, lying on the ground, clutching their abdomen, groaning in pain. He locked eyes with him.

"No!" His cry of alarm was muffled by the breathing tube, and burned his throat. He sat up and grasped at the tube, trying to pull it out. Monitors began to go crazy. The beeping sped up and alarm was sounding, but he paid no attention.

'No, no, no.' he said to himself. 'It can't, I...' Then it all came back. The horror of the last two days. He ripped the tube out of his mouth. He took a deep gasping breath. It felt like he had drug a razor blade up his throat. His lungs were on fire. He coughed a deep rasping cough.

He was vaguely aware of voices and rushing feet. He felt a hand on his shoulder and reflectively pushed it away, then another, he tried to pull the IV out, fighting off the hands trying to restrain him. He managed to swing his legs over one side of the bed. Two hands grabbed his shoulders firmly.

"STOP! IT'S OKAY! JUST RELAX!" He looked up at the voice.

He locked eyes with the familiar face, the eyes of the other man showing many things; concern, relief, but also fear. He knew that look of fear, and knew it was warranted. All this he registered in less than a second.

Before he could say anything he felt a sharp pain in his neck. He turned to see a nurse pulling away holding a large syringe. He looked back at the man before him. "A..an…."

He felt himself falling, the world spun around him. He remembered hands guiding him down gently, a voice saying it would be okay. He felt like he was falling, and falling as if the room had no floor. The darkness enveloped him.

* * *

"This discussion isn't over." He said defiantly crossing his arms.

The other man stopped. "It is for now." He sighed and turned around. "Just don't do anything stupid, yeah?" He didn't wait for an answer, but continued across the field.

He watched him walk away. He tried to contain his fury and disappointment as he too turned and walked away.

He was suddenly startled by a loud crack of thunder. He looked up as dark, gray and purple clouds swiftly gathered above the field. Bolts of lightning began striking the ground. He turned away from the blinding flash of a bolt that landed not 200 ft from him. Then he heard a blood curtling scream. He whipped his head around in panic.

'NO!' He thought as his eyes searched for the other man. He spotted him, crouched on the ground and began to run towards him. A bolt of lightning hit the ground between them, knocking him back. He heard another scream. He blinked his eyes frantically trying to clear the white lines, as he re-focused on his friend. He couldn't believe what he saw. Several lightning bolts struck the other man within half a second of each other. He reared back and screamed at the sky. Thin bolts of colored electricity wound back, in and through him. The pain was so intense he collapsed, hitting the ground, his breathing hard and labored.

He watched in horror as his friend was driven to the ground by the bolts of electricity. Soon all he could see was light surrounding the crumpled figure. He feared he was dead. Before he could wonder what had caused all this to happen, movement caught his eye. The slumped and smoking figure began to rise, he was about to shout out in celebration, when the shape changed. He backed up and scrambled to his feet. Every fiber of his being told him to run, but he was transfixed by the form taking shape before him.

"No, this can't be…how?" He let his thought trail off as glowing red eyes fixed their gaze on him.

* * *

"Where is he?" He brushed past the boy quickly, bumping him slightly. He heard a grunt of pain from behind him. He turned and looked at the boy, his arm in a cast and sling, the stitches and bruises on his face, and he instantly regretted his actions. "I'm sorry. I know he's here. I need to see him."

"You'll have to speak to my father."

"Your father is the problem. This.." he gestured at himself and the boy, "could have been avoided if he had listened to me!"

"He said he was not to be disturbed."

"You and your father have no right! He's my friend! I want to see him."

"You think we don't care about him too? He means just as much.."

"Don't make me hurt you."

The boy rolled his eyes. "Oh please."

"Don't test me boy. You think he means a lot to you? Times that by a thousand. Then think about what you would do to protect someone you cared about that much." His eyes were balls of fury, glaring at the boy.

A new voice echoed through the room. "It's alright son."

Both turned to face the man.

"Where is he?"

"Safe. Stable for now. You can rest assured that he is in the best capable hands."

"I want to see him."

"I'm afraid that's out of the question, for now." He added as he saw the other man's eyes narrow. "We need to be sure.."

"I don't care what you think. You're not his family. You have no right to make these decisions for.."

"Actually, I do." The other stared at him incredulously. "Years ago. When we were working on the project. Because it was secret, everyone at the facility needed to have someone on staff who could make decisions for them in case of an emergency, I was his."

"That was years ago, it doesn't apply anymore."

"It was and still is a legal binding contract. He never changed it. He probably never thought about it, after the accident, but regardless it still applies."

He couldn't believe what he was hearing. He stared dumbfounded and silently cursed his friend for overlooking that detail.

* * *

She stood there, in the steam filled bathroom, towel wrapped around her, staring at the reflection in the mirror. She took in the split lip, cuts and bruises on her cheeks. As she moved a stray strand of hair out of her face, she caught sight of her wrist, and starred at the small purple bruises. She tried not to cry, to be strong. She had been losing that battle all day. They were just bruises, small cuts; they would heal in time. Then she saw his face in her mind, that grin and the look in his eyes. She knew it wasn't him, not really, but the memory cause her to shudder. Her legs gave out as emotion overwhelmed her. But her pain and sadness was not for herself. It was for him. She prayed, when it was all over, that he wouldn't remember, any of it. He would be too devastated.

He put on a strong front, all the time. To everyone else, he was strong, confident, always knowing what to do. But she knew the real man, the one behind the mask. He let her see his brokenness, and how his demons haunted him.

How many times had he shown up at her door, when it all became too much? She would hold him and tell him it was okay, and he would fall asleep in her arms.

What if he remembered everything? Would she be able to chase the demons away? Or would they finally overtake him. She cried and heavy sobs wracked her body. She sat there on the floor crying. She didn't know for how long, but she was brought back to reality by her phone ringing. She wiped her eyes and hurried into the bedroom.

"Hello?"

* * *

 _ **I'd love to hear what you think...**_


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